


The Blindeye Murderer

by BillCipherTriangle



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Also Detective Ford, Alternate Universe, Asshole Bill, Blindeye, Blood, Crimes & Criminals, Detective Dipper Pines, Eyes, Flirting, Gore, M/M, More tags to be added, Murder Mystery, Murderers, Serial Killer Bill Cipher, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 18:46:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9838679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BillCipherTriangle/pseuds/BillCipherTriangle
Summary: In the shadows of New York city, there lurks a murderer that has never been caught before. He kills all his victims the same way, by cutting open the chest and ripping out the heart. He doesn't stop there. This murderer always, always, takes the eyes of his victims.Dipper Pines wants to be the first one to catch him and put an end to all the killings. However, what happens when he finds out the killer is the very same man he falls deeply in love with, Bill Cipher?





	1. The Discovery of the Blindeye

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm back with a brand new story! I know I haven't updated some of my others in a while, but I haven't felt inspiration to write them like I felt with this one! I hope you guys enjoy this for the meantime!

Dipper hated the color red.

 

Sure, red was found everywhere. From traffic lights to his sister’s eccentric fashion apparel. But he hated the color for a completely different reason.

 

Red was the color of blood. It was the darker shades that he hated seeing; the red so dark it was black. 

 

“Why did I become a detective?” Dipper muttered to himself, standing next to a sprawled out body of a victim that he dare lay his golden-brown eyes on. He bit back a gag at the sight. The chest was brutally ripped open, jagged, flaky edges of pale white skin met the red of blood and muscle. The body’s lungs were showing through the opened chest and it seemed the heart had been ripped out by force and was missing. The dead victim lay in a puddle of semi-warm blood, which notified Dipper that this murder was recent and couldn’t have been committed more than thirty minutes ago. 

 

The weirdest part about the victim was the eyes. Or rather lack of eyes. The eyeballs of the poor man had been carved out. That wasn’t where the weirdness stopped. Where each eye should be there was a giant red X over the socket and eyelids. Upon further inspection, the young man concluded that the Xs were made using a knife to dig into the skin and leave a light trail of blood to form them. His eyes quickly scanned to find a knife, but the murderer was smart not to leave any clues behind at all. In fact, when Dipper had checked for fingerprints on the door or window of the apartment, he found nothing. That left him with one clue. 

 

The young detective’s eyebrows furrowed as he pursed his lips and stood there to ponder. Why leave an X over where the eyes should be? What was the purpose of carving an X into the body? Dipper fumbled into his bag for his sketch book and pencil, hands shaking. He took a breath, trying to relax his hands so he could properly draw this. It could be an important clue to discovering the murderer behind this. He drew an eye with a giant X across it, pausing to decide a name for this. He started to chew on the end of the pencil, not realizing it. Oh well, old habits die hard. 

 

“That’s it!” he exclaimed, quickly scribbling out the word “blindeye” and then turning to a new page to write all the facts he knew about this murder as quickly as possible before someone new entered the room.

 

“Dipper . . . oh wow.” The cold voice of FBI director and his uncle, Ford Pines, said from behind him. “Well, I guess the report was right. I came as soon as they told me you wanted to take this. Is there really a case?”

 

The younger man turned toward Ford, their eyes locking for a moment before he looked back at his notepad. “Yes, I believe so.” He stepped towards the older, handing him his notes. “This is everything I could gather so far.” 

“Hmm . . . that’s not much,” Ford noted, gazing between the paper and the body. “Are you sure there were no fingerprints at all?” 

 

“Yes, you can go check if you want, but I didn’t pick up anything,” Dipper replied, trying to look anywhere else but the body so he didn’t lose his lunch. He focused on the ceiling and found something he hadn’t noticed before: writing. “Ford . . .” The young man pointed to the ceiling, hand shaking. 

 

Both detectives’ heads tilted at different angles, but no matter how hard they tried the writing was indecipherable. That was until Dipper remembered something. He raced towards his bag and grabbed a small mirror, placing it on the floor underneath the words. Ford peered down at the mirror. The writing still made little sense; however, they both recognized it as a code.   

 

WKLV LV RQOB WKH EHJLQQLQJ 

 

Dipper quickly wrote that down in his notebook and stashed it away in his bag. “You can tell them to take the body and clean up. I got all the clues already,” he told the other man, grabbing his things and walking towards the apartments’ elevator and leaving. He didn’t want to be stuck in that room with a rotting body any longer than he had to. Sometimes his job meant get in, get the details and clues to file a full analysis, get out. No man in their right mind would want to stay there. 

 

But then again, what man in their right mind could find it in themselves to  _ kill _ another human being? Dipper could understand hating people with a passion, but to go as far as homicide? If all his time in this career with his family taught him anything it was that there were some despicable and vile people in this word that needed to be eradicated, one by one. And that was his job. It made him sick to even think that a person would have it in them to murder people, yet it happened all the time. 

 

He walked towards the subway, mind in a haze as all he could think about was the dead body with the blindeyes. That was when he accidentally bumped into another man, wearing the same police outfit he was. Dipper raised his eyes to meet two dazzling golden eyes peering at him. His breath caught in his throat as he completely forgot his manners. The man had fluffy, messy yet adorable blonde hair that reminded him of a wheat field glowing in the sun. He wore a bow tie around the collar of the NYPD uniform he wore. “I-I’m so sorry, sir.” Dipper finally managed out, voice shaky. 

 

“Hey, kid, are you alright?” The man helped him onto the subway train, both grabbing the same cold pole, hands nearly touching. 

 

“Um, well I . . .” 

 

“Oh, where are my manners. Name’s Bill Cipher, new recruit on the job as of last week. You?” Bill asked, glancing at the shorter man.

 

“D-Dipper Pines, NYPD investigator,” Dipper stuttered out doing his best to stay composed. 

 

“No way! Pines? Like the famous detectives in the city? Are you related to Stanford and Stanley Pines?” The blond held excitement in his voice as if he were a five-year-old meeting his favorite idol. In fact, he was practically vibrating with energy, his eyes wide and bright. 

 

“Yea, actually, they’re my uncles.” He blushed, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck and trying not to meet the other’s eyes. He hated how popular his uncles were across the city and with the FBI and CIA. It gave him attention he really didn’t like dealing with. Especially when he was such a loner and nerd all throughout his schooling. Dipper supposed in a way he was just living up to the legacy of the Pines family. Even his own father was a part of the FBI and taught him everything he would ever need to know. 

 

“Oh. Sorry, got over-excited there. They were kinda my role models when I was a kid. They helped me get to where I am today!” Bill grinned widely.  “Hey, are you heading back to the station?” 

 

“Actually, yeah I am. Wanna go together?” Dipper asked cautiously, glancing up at the map on the side of the wall. “Four more stops,” he noted and the subway car began to free up as people got off so he sat down. Bill took the space next to him. 

 

Dipper decided to ignore him and took out his notebook, reviewing his notes and the code. He could feel the warm breath of the other on his neck and shoulder, and the blond’s body closer to his own. His cheeks burned and he closed the notepad. “Excuse you?” he glared into the other’s eyes.

 

Bill didn’t seem that ashamed, in fact, he looked the opposite, smirking down at Dipper and batting his eyes innocently. “What is it, Pine Tree? What did I do now?” he teased, biting his bottom lip to look all the more adorable. 

 

“I swear you are a seven-year-old trapped in a twenty-seven-year-old man’s body,” Dipper huffed, trying to scoot away from him, but forgot he was sitting by the end of the bench and fell onto the floor. This caused a hoot of laughter from the blond.

 

“Oh man, Pine Tree, I can see you’ve  _ fallen _ for me  _ hard _ !” Bill laughed, reaching a hand out to help Dipper off the ground. 

 

“Shut it, asshole!” Dipper retorted, slapping his hand away and getting to his feet on his own. He could feel the eyes of the other people in the subway car burning on his skin as they stared at the two of them.  “You’re causing a scene, Cipher.” He took a seat across from the blond this time, wanting to be left alone. Yet the second he opened his notepad again, the blond was up in his face. Like right in his face, so close he could see each of the tiny brown freckles that danced on his flawless white skin. So close he could see the whiskers of unshaven hair on his face. 

 

“I could cause a bigger scene if you wanted,” Bill whispered, their lips so close they were almost ghosting on each other. 

 

This is when Dipper froze, unable to push the jerk away. His heart pounded in his ears and he could feel the pounding all the way down to his feet. He could barely breathe, eyes staring straight into the golden depths of the other’s. For a split second he actually thought Bill would kiss him, but to his surprise the blond moved away, taking the seat next to him again.

 

“At least show me what’s in the notebook, kid. Maybe I could help.” The man said, voice much softer and composed than before. 

 

Dipper reluctantly agreed, after all, he couldn’t turn down such a big fan of the Pines. Also, he was right. Maybe he needed some help from a fellow NYPD officer. He opened the notebook to the page with the blindeye on it, showing it to the other. 

 

“Blindeye? Is that what you named it?” 

 

“Yeah. The victim’s eyes had been stolen and the X was left there deliberately, though I’m not sure why. It’s almost like I’m in a really good murder mystery book.” The brunet chuckled, thinking fondly of some of his favorites he had read ever since he was a kid. He loved to read the scary murder mysteries or horror books at night underneath a blanket with a flashlight. When his mother or father caught him they would laugh and tell him he was destined to be like Ford because his uncle had done the same thing as a kid. 

 

“Oh wow. I mean what would be the title of this if it were a book?” Bill asked curiously, eyebrows raised.

 

“Hmm, maybe something like ‘The Case of the Blindeye Murderer’ or whatever.” Dipper joked, imagining that title in the mysterious font on a cover of a book. “Maybe I’ll write a book about this. That is if the murders continue.”

 

“They probably will.”

 

“Why do you say that?” Dipper eyed the blond suspiciously, raising his eyebrows.

 

Bill held up his hands as if to surrender, and then gestured to his notepad. “The code on the paper. It says ‘This is only the beginning’. I have a talent for code breaking in my head. Ask anyone on the task force, they’ll tell you. That’s the truth.”

 

Dipper’s eyes widened. “That’s so cool! You can crack any code in your head?” 

 

“Nah. Only the easy ones like any Caesar shift or Atbash. That’s about it.” The blond shrugged and then the train came to a complete stop. He stood up. “You first, milady,” Bill teased and gestured for the other to get off before him.

 

Dipper blushed for probably the millionth time that day as he stepped off the train with a careful step, aware that Bill was standing behind him and  _ way _ too close. “Can you back up?” he muttered, trying to step away from him in the crowd of New Yorkers. But the blond tailed him closely. “Do you even know what  _ personal space _ means?” Dipper rolled his eyes, deciding to ignore him and walked up the stairs and out into the blinding sunlight. He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun for a moment, noticing that Bill had done the same. 

 

Around them, the bustle of a warm summer’s day in New York city continued. Families walked their little children to the park, tourists either seemed very uncomfortable in such a crowded place or were used to it and were taking pictures in front of every important place they could. Horns blared in the downtown traffic and many people were walking from place to place. Life went on.

 

Dipper realized this, his day in comparison to regular citizens was much different. Most people were fortunate enough to never see a murder ever in their lives. Sure, they might see a family member die of natural cause, but never anything as gory and violent as what he had just witnessed. He almost wished he lived a normal life. Almost. 

 

Ever since he was a young kid his father was amazing to him. How Mr. Pines would always save people, help people, and work to solve mysteries. He was just like his family and knew exactly what he wanted to be when he grew up.

 

“Dipper? Pine Tree!” Bill snapped his fingers in front of the other’s eyes, trying to get him to wake up out of his thoughts. “Kid wake up. We’re blocking the path!” 

 

The young detective shook his head, blinking rapidly and noticed what Bill meant. They were standing in the middle of the crowded sidewalk and people seemed rather annoyed that they were just stopped in the middle, giving them dirty looks and sneers. “Oh gosh.” He quickly started walking toward a tall blue and black building, the police station. 

 

“Dipper.” Bill stopped him once they were on the lobby floor. “Be careful. And do try to get some rest. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon.” He stared into his brown eyes, the two coming to an understanding. It was goodbye, but not for long. “Good luck with those Blindeye Murders, you’ll need it!” The blond waved to him, grinning as Dipper walked off. 

 

_ The Blindeye Murderer. What a nice name _ , Bill smirked to himself as he watched the other man leave. _ And the fun has barely just begun.  _

  
  
  



	2. The Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try and I mean TRY to update this once a week but sometimes it'll be two weeks. Hopefully, I can fully commit to this fic if homework levels stay down lol.

 

When the lights in Dipper’s office flickered the first time, he ignored it, eyes fixed upon his laptop screen as he continued his research.

 

The second time the lights flickered, he glanced up at them, silently wondering if the light bulbs needed to be replaced. He stood up, making his way over to the intercom on the wall. He pressed the red button.

 

“This is Dipper Pines, room 618, floor 21. Can someone send the janitor, Soos, to come fix the lights in my office?” The detective spoke into it. When he released his finger from the button, all he heard was the crackling of static. In that moment, he knew something was completely wrong. He swore he could hear whispers of some kind in the static haze, though the words were jumbled and inaudible.

 

Before he had time to blink or move, the lights fully went out, leaving him in utter darkness. For a moment he stood there, motionless, ears on full alert. It was completely silent and still, but the sense that someone was standing in the far corner had Dipper sweating. He glanced in the corner that he felt the presence from, but nothing was there. As soon as his eyes left that spot, out of the side of his eye he saw a dark figure that simply stood there, watching.

 

He stumbled in the dark towards the coat hanger by the door, as he could feel eyes burning on his back. Someone had to be in the room with him. When Dipper’s eyes fully adjusted to the dark he grabbed his coat, putting it on. His gaze shifted to the mirror on the wall. That’s when he let out a terrified scream, his blood running cold. The detective didn’t have any eyes. They were gone, and in their place was two Xs just like the man that had been murdered earlier that day.

 

Dipper reached two shaking hands up to his face, feeling for his eyes, but he only felt the cold, smooth holes of eye sockets. He let out another horrified scream, stepping away from the mirror, freaking out. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be real. He tripped over the rug and fell on the floor, staring up at the ceiling where writing started to appear in blood. It read: YOU WERE NEXT, DETECTIVE. A shadow of a man stood next to him, holding what looked like an eyeball in blood drenched hands.

 

Dipper woke up screaming, hands immediately flying up to feel if he still had eyes. Thankfully, he did and it was all just a nightmare. The lights were on and not flickering, and there was no creepy writing on the ceiling. He panted, trying to catch his breath when his cell phone rang next to him. He glanced down, the caller ID reading as Mabel. The detective collected himself the best he could, ignoring the cold sweat on his neck and answering the phone.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Bro bro are you still at work?”

 

“Yeah why?” Dipper frowned. Had something come up? Was there an emergency?

 

“Mason Dipper Pines it’s two in the morning! You should be asleep in your apartment. Ford called me at eleven saying you were still there working on a case. I just got home after being in LA for that fashion show.”

 

“I know. I know. It’s just . . . This case is hard. The murderer only left the clues he wanted me to find. It’s like I have two pieces of a huge puzzle. I need more information and fast. But it almost seems as if the only way to get more information is to wait for another murder.” Dipper explained, blowing some of his hair out of his face.

 

“Oh, wow. So this guy you’re up against is like super-villain smart?” Mabel asked from the other end, almost excited. How she could possibly be excited about a terrible murderer he didn’t know. His sister was the weirdest person he knew.

 

“Yea, pretty much.”

 

“Dip Dot, you really need sleep. If you aren’t in your apartment by three I’m going to drag you to bed myself,” she threatened, tone serious.

 

“Okay. Okay. I’m going home. Love you, Mabel. Goodnight.”

 

“Night, bro.”

 

Dipper placed his phone in his pocket, cautiously scanning the room, uneasy to get up and go near the door. He slowly reached out a shaky hand, closing his laptop and placing it in the bag next to him. It took him a moment to stand up, legs shaking and almost giving out on him. Man, that nightmare really got to him. When he finally made it to the door, he looked back to make sure nobody was in the room, and then opened the door to find . . . a dark hallway.

 

“Great,” he muttered. He could already feel the hair on the back of his neck standing up. His stomach lurched when he thought he saw a shape in the hallway. Then came the echoing sound of footsteps. Closer. Closer. Dipper squeezed his eyes shut, saying his last prayers when-

 

“Pine Tree? Are you okay?” A familiar voice asked next to him, a warm hand was placed on his shoulder.

 

“B-Bill?” Dipper took a breath, opening his eyes to find the flawless, blond male standing in front of him. His whole body was shaking involuntarily and his heart raced. “I-I . . .” he could barely get any words out, too freaked out.

 

Two arms enveloped him in a hug, and all he could feel was bliss. It was the warmest and safest he had ever felt in a really long time. He melted into the other.

 

“Oh man. You’re shaking. What happened?” Bill’s voice was full of concern, gazing down at the shorter man in his arms.

 

Dipper didn’t reply for a moment, trying to relax so he could even say something. “I-I had a nightmare. And then the hallway was dark and you were walking closer and  . . .” he trailed off, closing his eyes. That was a bad idea because all he could see when he closed them was the vision of the shadow standing next to him. His eyes shot open and he let out a whimper.

 

“Okay. That’s it! I’m taking you home.” Bill swooped him off his feet, carrying him down the hallway to the elevator.

 

“Bill, what are you still doing here this late?” Dipper’s weak voice spoke up, not even complaining that the older man was carrying him.

 

“Oh, I work the late night shift from nine until two in the morning. I just got off my shift.” Bill explained to the other. “The real question is why were you here so late?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. It was obvious by his tone of voice that he was concerned about the younger.

 

Dipper hesitated before answering, burying his face into the other’s chest, noticing his steady heartbeat and his breathing. He could feel the elevator slowly take them down, as he felt much safer now than earlier.

 

“I . . . It’s the case. I wanted to do research and find a lead, but I only managed to fall asleep and make my sister worried.” Even with his voice muffled, he knew the taller could hear him. “I have no idea what a blindeye is and there’s no symbol exactly like it in any religion. I’m stumped for the first time in three years. I called my father to see if he could help, but I haven’t gotten a response back yet.” Dipper paused again, collecting his thoughts. He found it easy to speak his mind with the blond. He wondered if that was a good or bad sign. “Why would you volunteer for the late night shift?” He knew that the police usually took volunteers for the night shifts mainly because they didn’t want to force people with families to work so late at night.

 

Bill shrugged, gently placing the younger’s feet on the ground, even though neither of them let go of the other. “I’m a late night owl. I’d prefer to stay up super late and sleep until past noon. In college I would always take the night classes. I guess you could say my mind works better at night.”

 

Dipper took a step back, a genuine smile curling on his lips as his eyes brightened at that. He looked at the blond, knowing that something special was forming between them. “I’m the same way! Although, I do have a minor case of insomnia that keeps me from sleeping as much. I love to stay up late reading or writing. If I’m not working that usually what I do.”

 

The elevator dinged as they had made it to the lobby floor, interrupting their conversation, but both men didn’t seem to mind. They stepped out together and walked out the door into the dark and cool night. Many people were asleep at this time, however, there was still cars and a few people out and about, walking the mostly empty streets. It was in that moment that Dipper realized he didn’t park his car in the lot today, he took the subway from place to place.

 

“Fuck!” He let out the loud curse, glad that it was night and nobody was around except for the blond that stood at his side.

 

“What’s wrong now, kid?” Bill asked, rolling his golden eye. “Don’t tell me you forgot something in your office.”

 

“No. I forgot I didn’t bring my car to work today. I used the subway. And now they’re closed. It’s too far to walk to my apartment.”

 

“Don’t worry. I said I was going to take you home, didn’t I? My car’s parked in the lot down the street,” Bill told him reassuringly as he led the way towards the lot. “You’ll just have to tell me the name of the apartment complex that we’re going to.”

 

Dipper opted to follow, albeit silently. It wasn’t that he was at a loss of words, rather he wanted to spend quality time in the other’s presence without speaking. Words didn’t need to be uttered for the two of them to acknowledge each other.

 

They walked side-by-side down the street, hands swinging by their sides. His hand, as if it were a magnet, was being drawn closer and closer to the other’s hand. He had a weird urge to hold the other male’s hand. He moved a little bit further from the other, deciding that holding hands would be to weird and awkward.

 

They made it around the block to the parking structure. They climbed two flights of stairs. Dipper followed behind Bill now, not sure where he had parked his car or what it even looked like.

 

Bill stopped in front of a new-looking black Prius, pulled out a pair of keys from his pocket and unlocked the car. Dipper stood there for a few extra minutes, staring at the beauty of his car. This man must have money up his sleeve to afford a brand new version of this. Dipper’s car was a hand-me-down from his father.

 

“Car got your tongue, kid? Hop in.” Dipper didn’t realize the passenger door was already open for him as Bill got in the driver’s seat. He got in and closed the door, being as careful as he could not to ruin anything or make a mess. However when he got into the car, the backseat was covered in beer cans, fast-food trash and sodas.

 

“Really?” Dipper rolled his eyes, giving the other a look as he backed out of the parking space slowly.

 

“What?” Bill batted his eyelashes innocently. “I hate cleaning. Too lazy. I’ll pay someone else to do it for me later.” He shrugged, driving down the ramp and out of the parking structure. “So where are we headed?”

 

“Upper west side. The Junction apartments.”

 

“Wait you live there?”

 

“Yes. Why?”

 

“I live in the same complex. On the sixth floor! I just moved in.” Bill grinned, driving down the street. He knew exactly where they were headed.

 

Dipper made a face. There were no such thing as coincidences. The fact that they both lived in the same apartment complex and on the same floor freaked him out. What was fate trying to tell them? He mooned over it for a bit longer, zoning out to Bill’s ramblings. He glanced out into the dark of the night, knowing that the murderer he was looking for was probably lurking in the shadows, looking for new victims to tear apart.

 

The drive wasn’t a long one, but Bill had shut up when he noticed the other’s far away look in his eye. He parked in the apartments’ parking complex and poked the younger.

 

“We’re here, kid,” he informed, poking him one last time.

 

Dipper opened the car door and rose without a word, taking his bag and walking silently towards the apartments to go to his room. He had nothing but a quiet “thank you” to say to the other as he unlocked his apartment door, stepping inside. Ah, finally home.

 

That’s when he noticed a hovering Bill by the door, who hadn’t made any move to come in or leave. “What?” he turned towards the older.

 

“I can’t let you stay here by yourself.” The blond spoke, voice deadly serious.

 

“Why?” Dipper furrowed his eyebrows, looking at him, confused.

 

“One, because there’s a murderer in New York city. And two, you can’t fall asleep by yourself after that nightmare. I’m worried about you, Pine Tree. You need to sleep.”

 

Dipper’s lips pressed into a thin line as he struggled to say anything. His eyes were cast down, looking at his shoes and the blue carpet floor of the apartment. He couldn’t deny Bill. Plus, even if he did, he was so stubborn that it wouldn’t be worth arguing over.

 

“Fine. You can stay,” he muttered quietly, stepping away from him as he placed his work back on a couch and took off his coat and his shoes. Dipper didn’t even feel like changing so he just took off some of his clothes and got straight into bed.

 

The blond, however, used the restroom before curling up next to Dipper in bed.

 

Dipper made a face. “You do know there’s a couch you can sleep on.”

 

Bill laughed and smirked wildly. “What? Do you not like the idea of me sleeping with you?”

 

That sent the other blushing madly as he pushed Bill roughly. “S-shut up, asshole!” He curled up into a ball and tried to fall asleep. But ever since his nightmare he was really uneasy. It took Dipper a while to relax, at one point deciding to “fuck it all” and cuddle into the sleeping blond’s chest. Only then was he finally able to make peace and fall into the deepest slumber he had ever had.


	3. Friendship?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah I'm not dead! I finally wrote something in forever, possibly because I haven't slept in days. Anyway, I'd like to continue this fic, even after a year. I'll do my best but don't expect regular updates from me. Also, I recommend rereading the first two chapters since it's been so long. And for new readers, Hi I hope you enjoy.

The bright morning light of the sun rising upon New York City shone into the bedroom. The young adult was slow to wake, though the coldness of the bed next to him was a clear indicator that Bill had left. Did the blond really stay with him last night? In the same bed? 

 

Even though it was around nine in the morning, Dipper couldn’t help the blush that shown as clear as the sun. He covered his face with his hands before hearing the sizzle and crackling of food in the kitchen. 

 

No way. Bill invites himself over, sleeps in the same bed, and now he was making breakfast for the both of them? Last Dipper recalled they had just met. What made them friends so fast? And why did he insist on staying with him? 

 

It was clear that the detective had not been thinking with his mind the night before. All his brain power and logic was used up trying to find a new clue in the case that would possibly help him crack it. No such luck, unfortunately. Dipper needed to address the current situation with rational. He appreciated Bill helping him out, and he should likely pay him back somehow for that. Maybe he could buy him some drinks? But he knew that he couldn’t keep allowing him to take care of him. He was an adult. 

 

The more caring side of the male wanted him to stay, so he had someone to talk with, otherwise, without Mabel, it was way too quiet and lonely here. Dipper rose out of bed, taking his chance of privacy to use the bathroom and change into his detective outfit. Once that was done he stepped out of the bedroom to figure out what Bill had decided to cook. 

 

“Rise and shine, Pine Tree! You slept late. Also, your phone went crazy while I was cooking here.” Bill told him in a cheerful morning voice as he placed a plate of pancakes with syrup on the table for Dipper with a side of bacon. The food smelled so good. Dipper never made anything this nice. He usually just didn’t eat breakfast as he couldn’t cook like Mabel could. 

 

At the mention of his phone going wild, however, his brown eyes widened and he jumped up, racing to the counter to check on his phone. “Fuck! Shit! Bill, why didn’t you wake me up when this went off? The Blindeye Murderer… Last night… Around four in the morning.” Dipper skimmed the report that Ford had sent him an hour ago. He also had five missed calls from Ford and the department, telling him they had more clues. He kept scanning his phone, the food came second and all of the sudden he wasn’t hungry, despite the mouth-watering smell that had filled his apartment. 

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to wake you up. You looked like a kitten there asleep, I wasn’t going to disturb that.” Bill bit his lip like he was actually sorry. “Can I make up for it in food? I figured you would want to eat before you left anyway?”

 

The detective was only half listening to the other male as his mind raced. The murderer had struck again and the only thing Dipper could think about was how grateful he was for Bill’s company with the case. He was under a lot of pressure and stress, and the other male was being nothing but supportive of him. He was going to repay him big time. And this started with eating this delicious breakfast with him instead of rushing out the door. “Bill, thank you so much for helping me out last night. I know we just met, but I want you to know that you’re a good friend. I don’t get much company here aside from the occasional visit by my twin sister or uncles.” Dipper spoke truthfully, though he was blushing lightly from admitting that to him. 

 

The male standing in front of him ran his fingers through his blonde bangs, brushing them back so they made a curl on his head. His golden eyes seemed to sparkle in the light and his face lit up with his classic smirk and a wink to top everything off. He chuckled, crossing his arms. “I hate you, too, Dipper. Now eat!” Bill teased him, though even he had a light blush across his cheeks that indicated he was indeed flattered by the other’s truth. 

 

He did, giggling at the other’s teasing, yet at the same time the scene he just saw before him with the other male made his heart do flips, and go upside down like he was on a never-ending ride. Dipper glanced away from him, thinking how precious and sweet the charming blond was. He was a good friend, yet it was strange. Dipper had just met him and he felt like they had been friends for life. 

 

Yet, there was a side of Dipper, that, while they ate breakfast, was skeptical of the other male. He suddenly shows up, wanting to protect him and be close friends with him. What game was he playing? The detective never lost a game of chess… he decided he was going to make a move, even if it cost him a piece. He had to clear his suspicions before he could move on. “Bill, what’s the real reason behind becoming my friend? It was rather sudden and you’re moving at a very fast pace. You can’t seriously think I would trust you enough yet to spill my guts to you?”

 

This made the other pause in his eating as he had been previously focused nearly solely on his food. He nearly froze but composed himself as he thought of an answer. Dipper’s careful eyes gazed at everything about him, reading as much as he could from his body language. After a few seconds, he had his usual demeanor about him. “Look, I lied to you in the beginning, but not fully. I do want to protect you from this murderer, but for a selfish reason. I wanted to be your friend because you’re one of the best detectives, and I wanted to learn everything I could so I can become a private investigator too.” He shrugged and then briefly looked away. “It’s a dumb reason.”

 

But it wasn’t a dumb reason at all, at least not to Dipper who was extremely flattered and surprised by this. The other male wanted to be his friend because he admired his work. It was amazing really, and he remembered a time when all he could think about was how much he wanted to be like uncle Ford, with his Journals that guided others through how to read a scene, how to decode ciphers and other cool things like how to inspect clues and the proper behavior on a crime scene. Ford was Dipper’s role model, and now Dipper was Bill’s role model. His heart melted at this realization and he nodded, continuing to eat the delicious food in silence. 

 

When Dipper finally spoke, it was with sincerity, clear in his voice. “I’ll teach you everything there is to know about being a detective, Bill Cipher.” 

 

The blonde sat up in his chair with excitement, barely able to contain it, but he was happy for more than one reason. “Really? Thank you! Thank you so much!” Though internally, the smirk on his face meant something completely different.  _ You’ve fallen for the same easy flattery your uncle did thirty years ago. You don’t suspect a thing. _ The murderer sitting in the enemy’s den thought to himself.

  
  



	4. The Demon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Graphic violence and Gore. Insanity all that fun jazz. 
> 
> Updates will be random, but at least once a week I will shoot for that. Enjoy!

This was the first time Bill was actually excited to go to work, in his uniform and all. He wasn't assigned to go visit the murder scenes, but his newfound friend was getting him a clearance pass to help investigate. This was getting interesting, especially from the blond’s point of view.

 

The murder occurred a few hours ago, near an apartment complex on the corner of fifth and sixth street. The whole building entrance was tapped off by police tape, the press standing outside the area marked for police and investigators only. Quite a few news trucks were parked along the street, behind where the police had blocked off the road with their cars and flashing lights. At least Bill was no longer stuck on crowd duty in cases such as these.

 

As he walked towards the scene, reporters followed them, their cameras and microphones poised in his direction. “Dipper Pines! Is it true this is the third body they've found in the past three days? Is there really a Serial Killer on the loose? Anything to say to the sacred citizens of New York?” Of course, the other male wasn't ready to speak to the reporters yet, nor did he seem interested as he walked on past.

 

Bill followed, his golden eyes scanning the area around him, as this place was very familiar. He was just here….

 

**-Six Hours Earlier-**

 

Bill drove in the dark, parking a few blocks away from where he had planned his next murder. Yes, deliberate thought, planning, and clues were placed, he played them like he was the puppetmaster. He was insane, he admitted that to himself years ago when the voices first appeared. The voices turned into one crystal clear voice eventually, the whispers in his ear from the demon were real, he knew they were. Though all the doctors told him otherwise. ‘Take your meds, Billy. The drugs will help you.’ Pft, if they had he would have stopped hearing the demon, but he didn’t.

 

The only way was to agree, have fun, and not get caught. All three things he had perfected over the years, especially the have fun and not get caught parts. He hadn’t been convicted or arrested, even for his first string of mild homicides a few years ago.

 

Oh well, every murder quelled his bloodlust, and shut the demon up for long enough to survive as a relatively moderate human, hopefully. He’d picked up weird habits from the demon: drinking, sex, gambling, all of which he enjoyed on the side of the murders, though the act of watching the life leave someone’s eyes before cutting them out was incredibly satisfying.

 

 **“Walk forward, to the left is the apartment complex, you’re going to room 816. Drag the body outside, spill his blood all over the street.”** The demon, who told Bill he was named Kill, ordered, and of course, that’s exactly what the blond would do.

 

 **“You know the rules, you kill for me, collect the eyes and the soul, and I give you the power to see everything. You have a taste of it, more souls equal more power. The more you kill, the more I’ll help you to see!”** Kill laughed, placing a hand full of claws on Bill’s shoulder. **“I will keep you out of trouble as promised.”** They were partners, yet one in the same. Bill was fully aware that Kill lived inside his mind, and the meatsack they shared, was evil yet charming. Everyone loves a bad boy archetype after all.

 

With his leather gloves tightly fitting both hands, his golden mask that covered most of his face and only had one eyehole while the other was a dark black X, he stepped out of the car, ready to go. The costume addition was Kill’s idea, he would always wear this suit, a black classy suit that made him look like he was straight from the 1920’s.

 

He didn’t have the key to get into the apartment and didn’t want to make a ton of noise, so in the lobby of the complex, he first walked in quietly. The man sitting at the desk was sound asleep.

 

 **“Cameras angles 63 and 57 degrees, cut them out, you aren’t on camera yet.”** Kill notified him. As any good magician, Bill had a lot of tricks, and one of his favorites for taking out cameras, was an invention of his, a boomerang playing card. It was a card straight from the deck of cards, thrown just right, it would hit the camera and curve back to him. And of course, having a demon calculate directly in his head for him made it easier. Silently he threw two cards simultaneously, landing their marks dead center of the lenses, cracking the glass so the footage was unusable, before landing back in his hands where he placed them back in his pocket.

 

Bill made his way toward the front desk, his footsteps silent as he reached over to the sleeping man at the desk and took his keys from his belt. For once, being a pickpocket was a good skill to have. He simply walked off as the man kept sleeping. He went to the exact room that Kill had told him, unlocking the door and stepping inside. **“Leave the keys in the door, a clue.”** The demon whispered excitedly, you could tell he was ready for the fun part.

 

Bill did before walking towards the man’s bedroom. The hardest part was how to drag him all the way to the street without him waking up? But Kill had thought of everything for him, made it nice and easy and fun. **“Gag him, keep him silent, throw him over your shoulder and go out the fire escape.”**

 

They were on the eighth floor, but Bill had trained for years to perfect every killing and kidnapping technique. Practice indeed made perfect. The serial killer tied the pillowcase around his victim's mouth to keep his screams as muffled as possible. He silently wondered who the victim was this time.

 

 **“Alfonso Frank, 35 years of age, male, single, works in an office downtown.”** Of course, the voice whispering in his ear had all the answers, he seemed to know things Bill didn't. The victim was already struggling, but his strength was nothing compared to the serial killer’s his grip tight as he swung him over his shoulders like he weighed no more than a grocery bag. The blonde slipped out the window, grabbing onto the fire escape and stepping down the ladders. With the added weight it took him twice as long as it should have, but the adrenaline running through his body was driving him forward.

 

Once Bill reached the sidewalk, he threw the man on the ground, not caring about any sustained injuries, as he was meant to die anyway. This knocked the air out of his victim and he was left wheezing even after the blond took the gag away from his mouth.

 

“I am the Blindeye, Alfonso, I want you to know my name before you die.” The cold words fell from his lips, outlined with black lipstick.. He grinned brightly, his one golden eye that was visible was glowing in the dark as he pulled the sharp knife that he used to kill out of his suit, an inside pocket designed specifically for this function.

 

Kill’s claws dug into Bill’s shoulders, the excitement finally kicking in, and despite the pain, their emotions matched completely. The serial killer stood taller, his back straightening. His footsteps approached the man, heels of his leather boots clicking on the asphalt with each step. Of course, the man did say anything, only cowered below him, curling into a fetal position.

 

The utmost feeling of dominance ran down the blond’s spine, feeling like he had power coursing through his body, the pulsing of his heartbeat speeding up. And then he let loose, fusing with his inner demon, as he lifted the knife up and with as much force as he could muster he stabbed into human flesh, finding it sliding away easily at his power. It wilted, moving to the side to expose the gore he loved, the blood spurting out, spraying all over the ground, not to mention all over Bill.

 

The wet warm feeling of the whole thing was one of his favorite parts, the second was coming up fast by the way the blood was spilling out rapidly. Bill took off the mask, his eyes glaring like the monster he was into his victim's eyes, finding the fear he was looking for, the one he was hoping to capture. It was the universal fear of death that all humans had when they were on the brink of death. He twisted his blade inside his chest, the cruel smirk on his lips as he watched the life, the light fade from the other’s eyes as he died.

 

The whole process was rather quick, less than a minute, but it was the best part! He laughed, tilting his head back before gripping the blade of his knife tightly, stabbing into the body over and over and over and over, on and on and on. It was fun, the blood still spraying all over his face. Yes. He was truly insane and he loved it!

 

 **“The eyes, Bill, we need them. Cut them out, write your next code in blood. Something directly to Dipper. Have fun with it, don’t give too much away.”** The demon ordered, which made the blond straighten up and take his knife with crystal clear focus to cut out both of the man's eyes, leaving a bloody X in its wake. Both eyeballs were put into a bag, one that carried four other eyes, for a total of six total. The blonde placed his mask back on before taking the pool of blood to write down his next code which read...

 

“Zdwfk brxu edfn, ghwhfwlyh Slqhv.” Dipper attempted to speak the next code that was written into the ground with blood. He remembered that his new partner in solving crime could decode very quickly and gazed up at Bill for a translation.

 

“Watch your back, Detective Pines.” Bill read to him, having to hide the smirk behind a series of coughs. **“The killer is standing next to you.”** The voice whispered into Bill’s ear, not that Dipper would be able to hear...

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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